


Cursed

by Spikedluv



Category: Hansel and Gretel: Witch Hunters (2013), The New Adventures of Old Christine
Genre: Appearance by Christine Campbell, Appearance by Gretel, Appearance by Ritchie Campbell, Cameo by Matthew Kimble, Community: smallfandombang, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-25
Updated: 2019-04-25
Packaged: 2020-01-31 19:05:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18597544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spikedluv/pseuds/Spikedluv
Summary: Hansel & Gretel: Witch Hunters are hired by Christine (Richard’s ex-wife) to reverse a curse.  While Richard is dubious about curses and witches, he does find himself attracted to Hansel.  The two men spend time together to get to know each other and play ‘meet the family’.  But when Richard realizes how often Hansel has to be out of town for work and discovers how dangerous Hansel’s job can be he begins to wonder whether he can do this.  When Hansel is badly hurt, Richard has to make a decision to run or commit fully.





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Cursed - Artpost](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18595243) by [Huntress79](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Huntress79/pseuds/Huntress79). 



> Written for Round 8 of Smallfandombang on DW/LJ.
> 
> So many thanks to Sandy79/Huntress79 for the gorgeous art she created for this story. Please check out her art post and give her all the love.
> 
> Posted: April 25, 2019
> 
>  
> 
>   
> 

“You did what?” Richard said. Christine had done some crazy things since he’d know her, but this might take the cake.

The doorbell rang before Christine could reply, which was a good thing because Richard already felt a headache coming on.

“Get that for me, will you?” Christine said as she scurried around the living room, picking up socks, magazines and an empty takeout container. She dropped them all behind the couch.

Richard waited until he’d turned his back on Christine to roll his eyes. He erased the scowl from his face before he opened the door. “Hi.” Richard tried to hide his surprise when he didn’t immediately recognize the two people standing at the door as friends of Christine or Ritchie.

“What can I do for you?” Richard said, hoping his voice held steady and didn’t give away the hot burst of arousal that hit him in the gut at the sight of the man. God, he hoped they weren’t Jehovah’s Witnesses. Not that Jehovah’s Witnesses usually showed up at the door wearing a leather jacket and blue jeans.

The woman’s eyes widened and the corner of the man’s lips curled up in a smirk. Richard jerked his gaze back up to the man’s face and pretended he hadn’t just given him a once over. Still, it was difficult to forget how well the man’s leather jacket fit across his shoulders and his jeans fit . . . everywhere.

“We have an appointment with Christine Campbell,” the woman said, her smooth tone showing no sign that she wanted to strangle Richard for ogling her husband. “I’m Gretel, and this is my brother, Hansel.”

Brother, Richard thought with relief. Wait. “Hansel and Gretel?” Richard said slowly, wondering if he was being punked.

The man – Hansel, presumably – held out a business card that Richard reflexively accepted. He glanced down at it. Red lettering on a white background spelled out _Hansel & Gretel: Witch Hunters_.

“Oh, for . . . Christine!”

“Please let them in, Richard,” Christine said. He could hear that she was gritting her teeth.

Richard rolled his eyes and stepped back to allow Hansel and Gretel to enter. Christine introduced herself and shook their hands while Richard closed the door and took the opportunity to see if Hansel’s jeans fit him as well in the back as they did in the front. They did.

“Thank you for coming,” Christine finished, adding, “Oh, this is my ex-husband, Richard.”

Richard noticed a sock hanging onto the back of the couch by a toe. He twitched his chin towards it, then pretended that Christine hadn’t dove for the couch the moment Hansel and Gretel turned to greet Richard. Gretel gave Richard a perfunctory hand shake while Hansel’s lasted a beat too long.

When Hansel and Gretel returned their attention to Christine, she was kneeling on the couch, stroking the back as if she hadn’t just flicked a dirty sock onto the floor. Christine gave them a wide fake smile. “Have a seat, please. Can I get either of you a drink?”

When both Hansel and Gretel accepted the offer of a cup of coffee, Christine said, “Richard.”

Richard forced a smile and went to the kitchen. He didn’t know if he was staying (instead of leaving Christine to her wild idea) to protect Christine from scammers, or because his knees were still a little bit weak from Hansel’s smile. Richard shook his hand out, trying to get rid of the tingles from their handshake.

When Richard returned to the living room with four mismatched mugs on a tray with sugar and non-dairy creamer (he’d sniffed the milk and decided not to chance it), Christine had rearranged herself on the couch and Hansel and Gretel had taken a seat on the chair and corner of the couch opposite Christine, respectively.

Richard set the tray on the coffee table near their – Christine’s – guests. He gestured for Hansel and Gretel to fix their cups first. Gretel put a little creamer in hers; Hansel took a sip of it black. Richard bit his lip on a grin when Hansel’s eyes popped – Christine brewed her coffee on the strong side.

Hansel accepted the creamer and poured a dab into the mug, turning his coffee a lighter shade of tar. Richard added a spoonful of sugar to Christine’s and poured creamer into his until the color had reached a lovely taupe. There was enough sweetness to the creamer that he didn’t need to add any sugar.

Once they’d all fixed and sipped at their coffee, Gretel said, “Can you tell us why you believe you’re cursed, Mrs. Campbell?”

“Oh, please, call me Christine,” Christine said before launching into her story.

Richard took a sip of coffee and kept his eyes trained on the mug so he wouldn’t get caught rolling his eyes as Christine went through a litany of complaints that could’ve been the result of crap luck rather than a curse – runs in every pair of pantyhose, every traffic light turning red just as she reached them, the milk going sour even though she’d just bought it, plants dying . . .

“All of that has perfectly plausible explanations,” Richard said.

“What about my hair, huh?” Christine said. She pulled out the scrunchie that kept her hair pulled back and wrapped in a bun-type thing. Her hair sprang away from her head as if she’d stuck her finger in a electrical socket. Richard jerked back in surprise before he could stop himself.

“My hair, Richard!”

“It’ll be alright,” Richard said. He set his mug down and stood so he could hug Christine. Richard had to brush Christine’s fly-away hair out of his face and mouth. He took the hand that held the scrunchie and raised it towards Christine’s head. “Why don’t you put this back in?”

Christine gave Richard a sour look, but she re-tamed her hair with the scrunchie. Relieved, Richard sat back down. As bad as that was – Christine took great care with her hair – he still wasn’t convinced that she was cursed.

“There’s more,” Christine said before calling Ritchie out.

Richie appeared wearing a rubber Frankenstein mask from last Halloween.

“Ritchie, show them.”

“Do I have to?”

“They’re here to help us.”

Ritchie removed the mask to reveal five large pimples.

“He’s ten years old, Richard,” Christine said as if Richard didn’t know that. “It’s like puberty hit him all at once!”

“Plus there’s holes in all my socks.”

“ _All_ of them, Richard,” Christine said before Richard could suggest she needed to buy Ritchie new socks. “Thank you, Ritchie.”

Ritchie shrugged and left. Christine waited until she was sure Ritchie was out of hearing range before leaning close to Richard.

“He got an A on a history test.”

“So, he studied. That sounds like the opposite of a curse.”

“He scored two goals at the game last night.”

Richard opened his mouth, then closed it. He’d missed the game because of a problem at one of his job sites so he hadn’t seen Ritchie score, but when Ritchie called him last night to brag, Richard had assumed that he’d scored for the wrong team again. There was no other explanation for it – Christine had been cursed.

“Okay, you might be right about the curse,” Richard admitted. “But do we have to remove the curse before I get to see Ritchie play?”

“Two words Richard. My. Hair.”

“So that’s a no, then?”

Richard thought he heard Hansel snort, but when he glanced over Hansel was studiously taking notes with a straight face.

Gretel said, “It sounds like whoever cursed you wanted to inconvenience you rather than hurt you, which is good. Can you think of anyone who might want to do that?”

“Who wouldn’t?” Richard said.

“Shut up, Richard.”

“Why don’t we start with recent interactions, a day or so before you noticed the effects of the curse,” Gretel said calmly, drawing Christine back into their conversation. “It can be something big, a bad break up, or seemingly insignificant to you, like cutting someone off in traffic.”

“Oh god,” Christine groaned.

Probably imagining all the times she’d gone through the ‘10 items or less’ line with a full cart. Richard felt a surge of sympathy.

“Why don’t we rule out the big ones first,” Richard said. “No recent break ups? Did you fire anyone recently? Car accidents?”

Christine shook her head at each suggestion. “I had a run-in with someone who didn’t read the fine print on a coupon for a free workout.”

“Do you know her name?” Hansel said.

“No. She was a walk-in. I’ll call Barb and have her check the sign-in sheet.”

“Is this really necessary?” Richard said when Christine stepped away to make the call. “Can’t you just . . . un-curse her?”

“Unfortunately, it doesn’t work that way,” Gretel said kindly. “Not knowing exactly what spell the witch used means it would be impossible for us to remove the curse cleanly.”

“Some residue of the curse might remain,” Hansel explained at Richard’s look of confusion.

“So no more runs in stockings, but . . . the hair,” Richard said.

Hansel nodded. “It’s possible.”

“Best case scenario is that the witch removes the curse herself so that it’s gone completely,” Gretel said.

“Okay.” Christine sat back down on the couch. “Barb’s going to see if she can find the woman’s name. In the meantime . . .”

The sliding door opened and Matthew fell through. “Christine! Do you have any calamine lotion? Oh, sorry,” he said when he saw everyone sitting around the living room. “I didn’t know you had company.”

Matthew turned to leave, but Christine called him back. “Matthew, what happened to you?”

Matthew’s entire body, what they could see of it, was covered in an ugly red rash.

“I don’t know. I must be allergic to the new laundry detergent, or something. Calamine lotion?”

Christine wordlessly pointed to the kitchen. Four heads turned to follow Matthew’s progress. He picked up the milk container Richard had left sitting on the counter.

Richard and Christine both yelled, “No!” but it was too late.

Matthew made a grimace of disgust and turned towards the sink. He barely made it before spitting out the sour milk. Matthew sputtered as he rinsed out his mouth.

“What the hell?” Matthew stood, water dripping off his chin.

“The milk went bad,” Christine unnecessarily explained.

“No kidding,” Matthew said, then, “You just bought it!”

“I know.” Christine gestured to all of Matthew. “So, you think laundry detergent?”

“What else could it be?”

“Did you buy new laundry detergent?”

“No. Didn’t you?”

“No!”

Hansel interrupted. “When did the rash first appear?”

“Two days ago,” Matthew said.

“You’ve been like this for two days!” Christine said.

Matthew shifted uncomfortably. “It started small.”

“Can you tell us where it started?” Gretel said.

Matthew looked shifty. “I’d rather not.”

“Genitals,” Hansel said matter-of-factly, making Richard squirm.

Matthew gave Hansel a look, then nodded.

“You didn’t have a bad break-up recently, did you?” Gretel said in her same calm voice.

“How did you know?”

“Oh my god!” Christine jumped up and stabbed an accusatory finger at Matthew. “This is all _your_ fault!”

Richard leapt to his feet and caught Christine before she could pummel Matthew for the ruined pantyhose and the hair issue. “I think he’s suffering enough.”

“You saw my hair, Richard,” Christine said through gritted teeth.

Richard paused, because he _had_ seen her hair. “Yeah, no, I’m still voting that the guy with the rash on his testicles got the worst end of this deal.”

“You would,” Christine muttered, but she sat back down.

“Did this woman curse you?” Gretel said.

“She called me a bastard,” Matthew said. “Right before she said, I hope you get a genital rash. In fact, I hope it covers your entire body!”

“And you didn’t think . . .” Christine gestured again.

“Can you tell me the name of this witch?” Hansel said.

“Hey, now,” Matthew said. “There’s no need to call her names.”

“We’re not calling her names,” Gretel explained. “She’s an actual witch.” Gretel also gestured toward’s Matthew’s everything. “She cursed you. And it’s bleeding out, affecting more people than just you.”

“What do you . . . ?” Matthew’s question cut off in a screech. Richard didn’t need to look to know that Christine had pulled the scrunchie out of her hair. “Oh my god, Christine.”

“Tell them. Her name,” Christine snarled.

Matthew gave Hansel and Gretel all the information he could think of about the woman who’d cursed him – Michelle (Shelley) Carson – and by extension, Christine and Ritchie. Hansel and Gretel went off to find her and convince her to reverse the curse. Richard went to check on the construction site.

By the time he got home Richard had holes in both his socks. He’d rubbed a blister onto one heel and his toe stuck uncomfortably out of the other. There was a car he didn’t recognize in his driveway and a man he did recognize sitting on his porch.

“Hey,” Richard said as he slid out of his truck, totally lacking in cool. He reached for his zippered faux leather portfolio and lunch box. When he closed the door Hansel was approaching the truck.

“Hey back.” Hansel smiled when he saw Richard’s ‘The Avengers’ lunch box.

“Ritchie got it for me,” Richard lied. “What are you doing here? Didn’t you find her?”

“We found her,” Hansel said. “Unfortunately, she can’t reverse the curse without help.”

“Why not?” Richard yelped.

Hansel raised his eyebrows. “Bad day?”

“I’ve got a blister,” Richard said, knowing even as he said it that he sounded whiney.

“That sounds terrible,” Hansel said.

Richard sighed. “I know I made fun of Christine before, but it really is irritating when so many little things go wrong at once.”

Hansel frowned. “What else happened?”

“A load of lumber got delivered to the wrong work site and I got stuck at a train crossing for fifteen minutes on the way home.”

“No one got hurt, though?”

Richard thought about the blister, then shook his head. “No one got hurt.”

“Aside from the blister, I mean.”

“Aside from that,” Richard said, feeling the corners of his lips curling up despite the irritations of the day.

“Come on,” Hansel said. “Why don’t we get you out of those work shoes.”

Richard caught himself before he stumbled up the porch steps and sternly told his body that all Hansel wanted to get him out of were his work shoes. Richard couldn’t help the shiver, though, when Hansel brushed a hand across his lower back.

Richard cleared his throat and managed to not drop the keys trying to unlock the front door. “You never did say why you were here.”

“Gretel’s working with Shelley. She’s a much more calming influence than I am, so Gretel suggested I check on you guys to make sure the curse didn’t get worse.”

“I don’t think it could get worse for Matthew,” Richard said as he let them into his house.

Richard looked around and wondered what the place looked like to Hansel. Richard had only lived there for six months and the furniture he’d brought from his apartment didn’t fill the space. He kept meaning to go shopping for more furniture, and maybe an actual dining room table, but it wasn’t something he wanted to do alone.

Richard and New Christine had talked about moving in together, and even after their break-up Richard couldn’t shake the feeling that he needed to get out of his apartment. It had only been temporary when he’d moved in, and he was still there three years later. Richard dropped his portfolio and lunch box on the table beside the door and sat down on the nearest chair to remove his work shoes.

Hansel made a sound in response to Richard’s comment. “No, that did look painful.”

“So, does that mean you need to leave?” Richard said, face hidden as he untied his shoes. “To check on Christine and Ritchie, I mean.”

“Already checked on them,” Hansel said.

“Oh,” Richard said. “So you don’t need to rush off?”

“No.” Hansel knelt and helped Richard slip his feet out of the work shoes. “I thought it might be a good idea for me to stay with you. Make sure you don’t have any ill effects from the curse.”

“All part of the service?” Richard said, hoping the flush he felt creeping up his neck wasn’t too noticeable.

“If it was part of the service I’d be at ground zero keeping an eye on Matthew’s rash,” Hansel said.

“Not to mention Christine’s hair,” Richard said, which caused them both to wince.

Richard looked at the toe poking through the hole in his sock. “These were perfectly good socks when I left for work this morning.”

“Come on.” Hansel stood and helped Richard to his feet. “Why don’t you take a shower and then we can doctor your foot.”

“Are you saying I smell?” Richard rounded the couch and headed for the stairs. “And I can doctor my own foot.”

It wasn’t until Richard stepped under the warm spray that he realized he’d left a complete stranger alone in his house. Richard shrugged and reached for the shampoo, ignoring the sting of the water against his blister. He finished showering and dressed in a clean pair of sweat pants and a t-shirt. Richard couldn’t hide his surprise when he returned to the living room and Hansel was still there.

“Thought I’d taken off with the television?”

“Just taken off,” Richard admitted.

Hansel didn’t pretend that he hadn’t been looking at Richard’s bookshelves and the few photos he had on the walls, including a frame that was filling up with Ritchie’s school pictures. He gestured with the frame he’d picked up to look at more closely. “You look happy.”

Richard walked over and took the frame from Hansel so he could look at the photo – one of him with Christine and Ritchie, soon after Ritchie had been born. “We were. We’re still very good friends,” Richard said, replacing the frame on the end table. “Some people find that weird.”

“You mean people get jealous when Christine asks you to drop by for moral support when she’s meeting with witch hunters?” Hansel said lightly.

The corners of Richard’s lips twitched. “Something like that, yeah.” He rubbed his hands together and took a breath. “It seems odd to ask you this after you waited for me to shower, but would you like to stay for dinner?”

Hansel gave Richard a smile that could’ve been a smirk if it hadn’t been so soft. “I’d like that.”

Richard turned away to hide his reaction to Hansel’s smile. “I hope you don’t mind leftovers.”

Hansel followed Richard to the kitchen and watched as he pulled the remains of a roast chicken, mashed potatoes and corn out of the refrigerator and set them on the island. Richard put the broth in the microwave to heat and got out plates and flatware for two. They took turns washing their hands at the sink and filled their plates. Richard put Hansel’s plate in the microwave first and set him up at the island with a beer.

“I usually have a beer, too,” Richard fibbed, “but my stomach’s still feeling the effects of lunch.” Not a fib. “I forgot to mention it, but I think the mayo on my sandwich went bad.”

Hansel grimaced. “Gretel will have this taken care of soon.”

“Are you sure she doesn’t need your help?”

“Have I overstayed my welcome already?” Hansel said, only partly joking.

“No, of course not. I just . . . don’t want to monopolize your time.” Richard ducked his head to hide the heat on his cheeks and pretended to be paying close attention to the plate turning in the microwave. After the microwave beeped Richard settled next to Hansel with his plate and glass of milk and they both dug in.

Hansel made a sound of enjoyment. “This is good.”

“Thank you.”

“You made this?”

“It’s not hard,” Richard said, which wasn’t the complete truth. It had taken him three tries to perfect a roast chicken, but he’d taken detailed notes and was careful to replicate them exactly each time.

Hansel gave Richard a look, as if he knew Richard was being modest.

“I had to learn if I didn’t want to eat take out every night.”

“After your divorce?”

“No, while I was married. Christine’s a horrible cook.”

Hansel laughed.

Richard took a sip of milk and grimaced at the taste.

“Did it go bad?”

“It’s turning.” Richard set the glass down and pushed it back. “What did you mean earlier when you said the witch, Shelley, couldn’t reverse the curse without help?”

“Shelley had no idea she was a witch.”

“So you’re saying she . . .”

“Didn’t intentionally curse Matthew.”

“That actually sounds like Matthew’s luck,” Richard said.

“It also explains why there was so much bleed,” Hansel said. “She had no control. Not that it helps you and your very painful blister.”

“Bite me,” Richard said before he could censor himself.

Hansel smirked and looked at Richard from under his lashes, then shoved a forkful of chicken and mashed potatoes into his mouth.

They were talking over coffee and cookies, plates stacked by the sink for later, when Hansel’s phone rang. From Hansel’s side of the conversation Richard knew it was Gretel. He was prepared when Hansel gave him a disappointed look and said, “I’ve got to go.”

“Curses to lift, people to save,” Richard said, earning a smile.

“Let me help you clean up before I leave.”

“Next time,” Richard said without thinking. He gestured towards Hansel’s . . . everything. “This is more important.”

Richard followed Hansel to the living room where he’d left his leather jacket folded over the back of a chair.

“I’ll keep you updated on Gretel’s progress.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” Richard said, then mentally kicked himself because what did that even mean?

Instead of commenting on Richard’s oddball comment, Hansel gave him a smile that followed Richard to bed.

Richard glanced at the screen when his cell rang the next afternoon. He didn’t recognize the number, but that wasn’t unusual since his cell served as both his personal and work phone. Richard swiped to accept the call as he stepped away from the noise of the nail gun.

“Richard Campbell.”

“Ooh,” Hansel said. “That sounded very professional and authoritative.”

Richard’s entire body went hot and his tongue felt thick in his mouth. “I’m at work,” he said dumbly, “and I didn’t recognize the number.”

“You haven’t put me in your contacts yet, Richard?”

Hansel’s voice, low and sultry, went directly to Richard’s groin. He cleared his throat. “Am I going to need your number in the future?” Richard hoped he didn’t sound as hopeful as he felt.

“You never know when you’re going to need a professional witch hunter,” Hansel said. “Or to invite me over the next time you roast a chicken.”

Richard grinned. “It’s not roast chicken, but I do have a roast in the crock pot.” Richard realized how that sounded and back-tracked. “Not that I expect you to . . .”

“I’d love to come over for dinner, Richard.”

Richard swallowed hard and leaned against the side of his Chevy Colorado for support.

“If you’re not regretting the invitation.”

“I’m not,” Richard said, silently berating himself when it came out breathless.

“Then it’s a date,” Hansel said. “What time would you like me there?”

It took Richard three tries to say, “Six?”

“Sounds good,” Hansel said. “See you then.”

“Yeah.”

Hansel disconnected the call and Richard took a few deep breaths. The phone rang again before Richard pushed away from the truck. This time Richard recognized the number as Hansel’s.

“Change your mind already?” Richard said lightly to cover the dread in his stomach.

“No. We got off-track and I forgot to tell you what I originally called for.”

“Which is?”

“The curse has been lifted!”

“That’s fantastic news!” Even though he’d covered it with a bandage Richard felt the blister with each step. “Does that mean I can pick up milk on the way home?”

“You should be safe,” Hansel said, and Richard could hear the smile in his voice.

“Okay, well, thank you for letting me know.”

“You’re welcome, Richard. I’ll see you later.”

Hansel disconnected before Richard could reply, which was just as well because Richard got flustered every time Hansel said his name like that.

Richard called Christine, who said, “My hair’s back, Richard!”

“That’s great news. Really great. How’s Ritchie?”

“The pimples cleared up, but his socks didn’t magically fix themselves.”

“I’ll pick up some,” Richard offered. He was going to need to pick up some for himself, anyway. “How’s Matthew?”

“He said he’ll never take not having to itch for granted again.”

Richard made it home in time to turn the crock pot from the low temperature setting to warm and shower before Hansel arrived. He wore a pair of blue slacks with a blue and green plaid button-down, brown loafers, and the same leather jacket.

“You look nice,” Richard said.

Hansel smiled. “Thanks. So do you.” He gave Richard an exaggerated once over that had Richard grabbing his arm and dragging him into the house to cover his fluster.

“Get in here.”

Hansel’s nose went up. “It smells really good in here.”

“Thank you.”

“I brought wine.” Hansel held out the bottle to Richard. “I have no idea what goes with roast, but I like this one, so hopefully it’ll taste alright.”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” Richard said, recognizing Hansel’s babble as the first sign of nerves he’d seen in the other man.

Richard got down two wine glasses and started the rice while Hansel opened the bottle and poured. Richard took a glass from Hansel and sipped while he waited for the water to boil. “This is good.”

Richard was glad he’d made the comment when Hansel smiled at the compliment.

“I probably should’ve made sure you were okay with rice before inviting you over.”

“I am very okay with rice,” Hansel assured him.

“Tomato, onion, pepper?” Richard said.

“Same.”

“Good.” Richard poured rice into the boiling water, stirred it, and set the timer.

Richard had already set out bowls and flatware, so there wasn’t anything to do to keep his hands busy while the rice cooked. Thankfully, Hansel wasn’t averse to talking about his line of work to help fill the silence.

“What do you want to know?”

“Using this instance as an example, how do you normally go about solving your cases?”

“Well, things were made easy because we knew who had placed the curse. Reversing the curse was both easier and harder. Easier because Shelley was willing; harder because she had no idea how to do it.”

Hansel continued to talk while Richard tended the rice, then dipped into the crock pot with a slotted spoon. The chuck roast fell apart easily. Richard set the meat on a plate and used a fork and knife to pull it apart.

“Luckily, Ben . . .”

“Ben?”

“Our bookkeeper,” Hansel said. “Lore, not numbers.”

“I didn’t realize there was anyone else in your . . . company.”

“There didn’t used to be. It was just me and Gretel for the longest time. We met Ben and Edward on one of our cases. They helped us out and we took them on. Ben was a bit of a fanboy; he had posters of us up on his wall.”

“There are posters?”

“Anyway,” Hansel said, ignoring Richard’s question. “Edward is our muscle. Think The Rock, only more.”

“Hmm,” Richard said, trying to imagine it. He’d spooned rice into the two bowls, covered it with the pulled chuck roast, the diced tomatoes, onions and peppers, and broth from the crock pot. He set the bowls on the island. “You need muscle?”

“Sometimes, yeah. Not every witch wants to be found, or is willing to reverse the curse.” Hansel dipped his fork into the bowl and stirred the steaming contents.

Richard took his seat at the island next to Hansel. “Have you been hurt before? Doing this line of work.”

Hansel gave Richard a strained smile. “Is that your way of getting me out of my shirt?”

“No.” Richard blushed despite Hansel’s discomfort. “But for future reference, would it work?”

Hansel laughed. “Probably.”

They ate their meal in silence broken only by Hansel’s appreciative comments and talk about the weather and other light topics. When they were done Hansel offered to help with clean up. Richard was unaccustomed to moving around another body, but he put Hansel in charge of stacking the dishwasher while he separated the leftovers.

“You made a lot,” Hansel said, watching Richard closely.

“That’s my secret. When I cook, I go large so there are a lot of leftovers, which means I’ve got two or three future meals taken care of.”

“Smart. What’s that gonna be?”

Richard set his hand on one of the larger plastic containers. “One of these is going to be soup, the other I can prepare a number of different ways and I probably won’t know until I pull it out of the freezer what that’s going to be. This smaller one is lunch for tomorrow.”

“I love a man with brains,” Hansel said.

Richard ran into the edge of the island on his way to the freezer with the leftovers. When he dared to glance at Hansel, the other man was smiling down at the dirty crock pot insert he was scrubbing.

They settled in front of the television with coffee and split an ‘individual-sized’ chocolate cake he’d picked up from the bakery on the way home. (Richard had also gotten a carrot cake in case Hansel didn’t eat chocolate, and had put that one in the refrigerator when Hansel assured Richard that he liked both. When Ritchie came to stay over the weekend the carrot cake would be safe; not so with the chocolate.)

“Clever,” Hansel said when Richard explained why he chose the chocolate when Hansel said, “You pick.” He didn’t say anything else, but Richard, still remembering running his hip into the island, blushed anyway.

When there were only crumbs left on their plates and coffee stains in the bottom of their cups, Hansel said, “Can I kiss you?”

Richard’s stomach flipped. He’d wanted . . . but had been afraid to hope. “I’d like that,” he said.

Hansel leaned in and pressed his lips softly to Richard’s. Richard let out a soft sigh that galvanized Hansel. Richard slid his fingers into Hansel’s hair as Hansel deepened the kiss, and Hansel clutched at Richard’s hip as if he wanted to have him on his lap. Richard had to admit that he didn’t mind the idea of that at all.

Richard let out a soft moan of protest when Hansel broke the kiss. Hansel smiled and petted Richard’s shoulder. “I need to stop now.”

“Why?” Richard said, then realized. “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh.”

They sat there, half sprawled on the couch and each other, and got their breathing back under control.

“I think I can drive now,” Hansel said. “I don’t cook like you do, I mean, some, because we lived on the road a lot and had our fill of greasy diners, but . . . anyway, can I take you out to dinner?”

“I’d like that.”

“Is tomorrow too soon?”

“It’s not soon enough,” Richard said, earning another smile.

Richard walked Hansel to the door and got a goodnight kiss that left his lips (and other parts) red and swollen.


	2. Two

Hansel picked Richard up the next evening. He looked gorgeous in a pair of jeans and a thin gray sweater.

“You look amazing,” Richard said. “But I’m over-dressed.” He hadn’t known where they were going, so he’d put on a pair of dress slacks and a blue button-down he could dress up with a tie if he needed to.

“You look great,” Hansel said. “I made reservations at a steak house – I figured that was safe – but you don’t need to change on my account, only if you’d be more comfortable.”

The way Hansel looked at him made Richard hesitate. “Maybe just the slacks,” he said. When he returned wearing jeans and the blue button-down Hansel gave him such a heated look that Richard was tempted to cancel dinner altogether.

Hansel drove, and he was a good enough driver that Richard was able to unclench his fingers from the armrest and relax. He wasn’t one of those people who had to always be behind the wheel, but he hated being a passenger when Christine was driving – she’d been distracted by the slightest thing. They arrived at the restaurant without a single close call. Hansel grinned at Richard’s unconscious sigh when he pulled into a spot and turned off the engine.

“You’ve never ridden with Christine,” Richard said.

“Good story there?”

“Only if you’re my heart doctor or insurance company.”

They met at the back of the car and Hansel set his hand against the small of Richard’s back. Richard’s skin prickled with heat, but no one commented when two men were seated at a cozy corner table away from the front door and kitchen.

Richard picked up the menu and glanced at it for something to do. From the small talk Hansel made with the server who’d seated them it was obvious he’d been here before. It was possibly not even the first time he’d been there with a guy as his date. Richard, on the other hand, hadn’t been on a date with a guy since college, and even then it was unlikely that anyone had realized they were on a dat because they were either out with a bunch of friends or just grabbing slices of pizza at the cheapest pizza place they could find. They certainly couldn’t have afforded a nice steak house like this one.

Richard shook off the thoughts and said, “Regular?” when the server had left them alone.

“I might’ve been here once or twice,” Hansel said. “Sometimes with Gretel or Ben, but usually by myself.”

Richard raised an eyebrow.

“Gretel doesn’t like steak.”

Richard gasped theatrically.

“Exactly,” Hansel said. He picked up his menu and looked at it, though he probably already knew what he was getting. “Never brought a date here before.”

Richard couldn’t stop the smile that spread across his face. “Well, I’m glad you brought me to your favorite steak house.”

Hansel kicked Richard’s foot under the table and left his nudged up against Richard’s. “You’re welcome.”

The server, who introduced himself as Sam, stopped by to rattle off the specials and take their drink order. They both got beer – Richard an IPA and Hansel a stout. When Sam returned with their drinks they placed their orders; Richard got the Delmonico special and Hansel the king-sized prime rib off the menu.

Richard nodded in the affirmative when Hansel asked if he liked herring before ordering the Smoked Herring Smorgas and assuring Richard that, “You’re going to love them.”

“They are really good,” Sam agreed.

They both took a sip of their beer after Sam left them alone.

“How long have you been doing this?” Richard said.

Hansel gave Richard a questioning look. “Dating guys?”

“No, the other thing,” Richard said, fighting the butterflies that had started up in his belly at Hansel’s comment. “The witch hunting.”

Hansel gave Richard a strained smile. “A long time.”

“Can you tell me how you got into this line of work?”

Hansel’s expression shuttered. “That is a long story which requires a lot more alcohol to tell, or us knowing each other a hell of a lot better.”

He tried to hide it, but Richard could hear the pain in Hansel’s voice. Richard leaned forward and set his hand over Hansel’s. “Let’s work on that, then.” 

“Getting drunk?”

“Getting to know each other better.”

Hansel studied Richard as if looking for the lie. He ducked his head when he didn’t find it. “Yeah, okay. I’d like that.”

“Me, too,” Richard admitted.

The appetizer came and it was just as good as Hansel had promised. Over smoked herring and steak and a second beer they shared bits of their lives. Richard told Hansel about working construction for years before taking the leap and starting his own business; Hansel told Richard about the time a guy had been cursed to quack like a duck instead of speaking.

“How’d you get any information out of him?”

“Luckily he could still write. Loopholes, man, you gotta look out for ‘em.”

Richard admitted that the day Ritchie was born was the best day of his life. Hansel smiled while Richard was talking, then turned pensive. “I don’t think I’ve had my best day yet.”

“You’ve helped a lot of people,” Richard said.

“Yeah, that does feel good, but it’s not the same thing.” He stared at Richard, averting his eyes just before things got weird. “I think I’m still waiting for my best day, or maybe it already happened and I’ll realize when I look back on it.”

Richard swallowed the lump in his throat. “Maybe.”

Richard’s gaze moved between the bench where Ritchie and one of his teammates were tossing grapes in the air and trying to catch them in their mouths (failing more often than not), the field where the two soccer teams were playing, and the screen of his phone. It wasn’t like he _expected_ a phone call from Hansel, but that didn’t stop him from hoping.

They hadn’t seen each other since the goodnight kiss in Hansel’s car on Thursday night. Richard had Ritchie for the weekend and he’d picked him up after school on Friday. They’d spent Friday night eating flatbread pizza they made at home with their favorite toppings and playing Stardew Valley and Legend of Zelda.

Richard’s gaze made another circuit. He’d mentioned the game to Hansel, but wondered if it was too soon to ask him to attend something like this. Ritchie caught a grape (Richard pumped his fist), the other team scored another goal, and his screen remained frustratingly blank.

“What’s he doing here?” Christine said.

“Who?” Richard said without bothering to look at what had caught Christine’s attention this time.

“The witch hunter guy,” Christine said. “You don’t think there’s a witch here, do you?”

Richard’s head jerked around so quickly he cracked his neck. He almost asked, “Where?” but caught sight of Hansel before he was forced to. Their eyes met and Richard’s stomach began doing somersaults.

Richard stood up and ignored Christine’s, “Richard, where are you going?”

“Excuse me, excuse me,” Richard said as he zig-zagged his way down the bleachers trying not to step on anyone (or their purse, or the cup of coffee helping them get through another early Saturday morning soccer game). When he made it safely to the ground Richard glanced over at where he’d last seen Hansel. He was closer now. Richard casually wiped his palms on the seat of his jeans.

“Hi,” Richard said when they were close enough to speak without raising their voices.

Hansel smiled. “Hi back.”

“I wasn’t sure if you were coming,” Richard blurted out. “I mean, I didn’t know if it would be weird. For you. Because we’re not . . .”

“I wondered if it was too soon, too. But I wanted to see you again before Sunday. After seeing you three days in a row, I didn’t want to go three days without.”

Richard tried to keep his pleased smile in check. “I’m glad you came.”

“Me, too. Should we go sit by Christine? She’s staring.”

“God, no!” Richard said. “Unless you _like_ getting the third degree.”

“Not especially,” Hansel said.

“Good call.” Richard led them back over to the bleachers, but they remained standing at the end. Richard could feel Christine’s, Barb’s and Matthew’s gazes boring holes in his back, but he refused to look over.

At one point Hansel said, “A lot of people are staring.”

“Yeah. I don’t bring a lot of, you know, people to Ritchie’s games.” No one since he and New Christine had broken up. “I’m probably the coolest guy here right now,” Richard said, then immediately stepped back and nearly fell over a trash can.

Hansel reached out with no real effort and caught Richard’s arm, keeping him upright and pulling him a step closer.

“Thanks,” Richard said, breathless.

“Any time.”

Richard forced his gaze to the field. “Oh, yeah, coolest guy here,” he muttered.

“How’s Matthew’s rash?”

“All gone. Every time I saw him I started itching, so thank you for that.”

“Even though you thought Christine was crazy for calling us?” Hansel teased.

“Even though,” Richard said.

Ritchie was put in during the third quarter and Richard loudly cheered him on. Still, Christine’s voice could be heard over everyone’s when she stood up and yelled her support. Hansel ducked his head and grinned when Christine and Barb bumped hips, high-fived, and went into some elaborate handshake that ended with them flapping their hands at each other when Ritchie made a successful pass.

“She really gets into it.”

“Yeah. When Ritchie announced he wanted to play soccer Christine bought a ‘Soccer For Dummies’ so she knew what was going on.”

“You care about her.”

“Yeah,” Richard said thoughtfully. “I mean, we can’t live together without wanting to kill each other, but she was my best friend for a long time. And honestly, we get along better after the divorce than we did before.”

“That’s good. For Ritchie, especially.”

Before Richard knew it, the game was over. Normally it felt like he was sitting on the bleachers forever, but talking to Hansel made the time pass quickly.

Richard saw Christine hurriedly packing her water bottle, phone and snacks back into her bag. “You should leave before Christine gets over here,” he warned Hansel.

Hansel glanced towards the bleachers. “Okay. Call me after you drop Ritchie off?”

“Yeah.”

Hansel gave Richard a quick peck on the cheek. “See ya.”

Richard’s jaw dropped and he stared after Hansel as the other man walked to the parking lot.

“What did he want?” Christine said, breathless from rushing to Richard’s side.

Richard wondered how many people she’d pushed out of the way or leapt over to reach him so quickly.

“Is there something wrong with the . . . you know?”

“No,” Richard said. “Everything’s fine.”

“He kissed your cheek,” Barb, who finally reached them, said.

“He did?” Richard could still feel the press of Hansel’s lips against his cheek. “Ritchie!”

Richard had never been so glad for Ritchie’s timing. He hugged Ritchie. “Did you have fun?”

Ritchie shrugged. “I guess. I kicked the ball.”

“Yes you did!” Christine grabbed Ritchie into a smothering kiss.

Ritchie’s eyes, just visible above Christine’s breasts, pleaded for rescue. Barb got there first. She slapped Christine’s arm and said, “Let the boy breathe.”

Richard pulled Ritchie a few steps away from Christine when she released him. “Let’s get your bag.”

“Okay!”

It took three trips back to the team bench to get all of Ritchie’s stuff. When they reached Richard’s truck Christine and Barb were waiting for them.

“Give your mom a hug.” Richard tossed Ritchie’s soccer bag into the back seat of the extended cab while Ritchie hugged Christine and Barb, then helped him clamber into the truck and buckle in.

Christine waited until Richard had closed the door. “Richard.”

“No.” Richard hurried around the truck to the driver’s side.

“We’re talking about this.”

“We’re not talking about this.”

Richard slammed the door and started the engine. He could still hear Christine call after him, “We are _so_ talking about this, Richard!”

Richard got in line with the other parents exiting the ballfield parking lot. Ritchie waited until they were on the road to say, “What does mom want to talk about?”

“A friend of mine came to see you play today.”

“Hansel,” Ritchie said. “Am I gonna get more pimples?”

“No! Not from that, anyway. Unfortunately, adolescence is another matter entirely.”

“Okay. Is mom mad because you have a friend?”

“No. Your mom just doesn’t like not knowing things.”

Ritchie nodded and fell silent as he stared out the window. A few minutes later he said, “I caught five grapes.”

“I saw!” Richard held his hand out for a high-five.

“What’s wrong with you?” Christine said.

“Nothing.”

“Then why are you slumped all over my couch? I thought you’d try to shove Ritchie out the door and squeal away so you didn’t have to talk to me.”

“I’m not talking to you.”

“No, you’re moping.” Christine poked Richard with the end of her duster; Richard batted it away. “Tell me what’s bothering you.”

“Nothing’s bothering me.”

“I know you want to talk about it because you’re a puddle of misery on my couch instead of your own.”

Richard shrugged. Christine wasn’t wrong.

“I’m not going to beg.” Christine dropped the duster and jumped onto the couch, landing on her knees beside Richard. She grabbed the front of his shirt and started shaking him. “Richard, please tell me!”

Richard laughed. “Oh my god, alright, stop!” He took a deep breath when Christine released him and sat back on her heels. “Hansel’s in Phoenix.”

“What’s in Phoenix?” Christine said. “Besides Hansel.”

“A job.”

“Okay. So why are you pouting?”

“I was supposed to call him after I dropped Ritchie off.”

“So call him.”

“So he could come over for dinner and a movie,” Richard grated out.

“Oh, so you’re missing out on some hanky panky.”

“There has been no hanky panky,” Richard said archly. “There as been eating and talking. And some kissing.”

Christine squealed. “Is he a good kisser? He looks like he’d be a good kisser.” Christine slapped the back of her hand against Richard’s chest. “Tell me!”

“Fine.” Richard grabbed Christine’s hand. “Yes, he’s a good kisser. Very good, in fact.”

“I knew it!” Christine shifted so she sat on the couch beside Richard, her shoulder against his arm. She patted Richard’s leg. “I’m sorry your evening got screwed up.”

“Thanks.”

“But you know, you can still call him.”

Richard had planned on grilling chicken breasts, but he no longer felt like going to even that small effort for just himself, leftovers or not. There was enough deli meat left from the weekend for him to make a sandwich for tomorrow’s lunch.

Christine had invited Richard to stay for take out and a movie she’d borrowed from the library, but Richard wasn’t in the mood. Now the rest of the evening yawned in front of him. Hansel had only been in his life for six days and Richard had already forgotten how he used to spend his evenings alone (when he wasn’t spending them with Ritchie and Christine).

Richard showered so he didn’t have to do it in the morning and pulled on a pair of lounge pants Christine had bought for Ritchie to give him for Father’s Day earlier that summer and a soft, thin t-shirt. He laid out his clothes for the morning - his favorite blue and white plaid flannel shirt and a pair of jeans – the same ‘uniform’ he wore every day.

When there was no longer busy work to keep his mind occupied Richard picked up his cell phone. He stared at the blank screen for a while before pulling up Hansel’s contact information. Richard one-finger texted _are you free to talk?_

Richard stared at the phone, willing it to ping with a return text. When it didn’t, he shoved it into his pocket and went downstairs. Richard contemplated the carrot cake before grabbing a beer and sitting in front of the television. Maybe he’d find a movie that would keep him from thinking about Hansel and what he’d hoped they’d be doing together tonight.

Richard was half-dozing, half-watching an episode of 20/20 – his money was on the business partner for the murder – when his cell rang. Richard fumbled the phone out of his picket and almost accidentally hit ‘reject’ instead of accepting the call when he saw Hansel’s name on the screen.

“Hi,” Richard said, his voice low.

“Hi. Why are you talking so quietly?”

Richard laughed. “I don’t know. It’s really quiet here.”

“Sorry about that.”

Richard hummed. “I didn’t want to bother you if you were busy.”

“I’m not busy now,” Hansel drawled.

“Are you trying to seduce me?” Richard smiled helplessly.

“Maybe. Are you willing to _be_ seduced?”

“I should warn you that I’ve never had phone sex and I’m not wearing anything sexy.”

Hansel choked. “Richard Campbell, I’m shocked!”

“Not where you were going?”

“I’d love to go there,” Hansel said, “but I haven’t gotten much sleep in the last twenty-four hours and while the spirit is definitely willing, the flesh is weak.”

Richard chuckled. “Conservative Christians everywhere just rolled over in their graves.”

“Then my job here is done.”

“I hope not,” Richard said softly. He cleared his throat when he realized what he’d said. “So, how’s the case going? If you can talk about it.”

“I can, and not well.”

There was pain, and a raw vulnerability in Hansel’s voice. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No,” Hansel said. “I need ten minutes when I’m not thinking about it. Distract me?”

Richard swallowed hard, wondering what it took to make Hansel sound like this. He said, “I told Christine that you were a good kisser.”

Hansel snorted. “What?”

“She asked,” Richard said. “I might’ve been moping on her couch after dropping Ritchie off.”

After he’d distracted Hansel for thirty minutes and they’d reluctantly ended the call, Richard Googled the news reports out of Phoenix, then wished he hadn’t.

Hansel called Richard on Tuesday afternoon to tell him they were flying back. Richard knew the case had been ‘solved’ because he’d set Google alerts to notify him of anything that happened with the case. He’d invited Hansel to come over if he wasn’t too tired, or he didn’t need to huddle with his sister and friends.

“It’ll be late,” Hansel warned.

“I don’t care.”

There were dark circles under Hansel’s eyes and he looked haunted when Richard opened the door to his knock. Richard pinched the sleeve of Hansel’s leather jacket between his fingers and pulled him into the house. Hansel pressed against Richard and buried his face in Richard’s neck.

Richard swung the door shut and brought his arms around Hansel’s back. “I’ve got you.” Richard rubbed his hand up and down Hansel’s back, though he had no idea what he had to offer against the horrors Hansel had seen in Phoenix.

“Are you hungry?” Food he could do.

Hansel shook his head. “I just want you to hold me.”

“Okay. Why don’t we go to the couch.”

Richard took Hansel’s jacket and tossed it over the back of a chair. They settled together on the couch so Richard could hold Hansel in his arms. Hansel closed his eyes and the tension slowly bled out of his muscles. Richard thought Hansel might’ve fallen asleep, and still he didn’t move.

Hansel stirred when his stomach growled. “I guess I am hungry,” he said into Richard’s t-shirt, “but there’s nothing I’m hungry _for_.”

“I know just the thing.” Richard nudged Hansel to get up.

When they were both more or less standing, Hansel followed Richard into the kitchen and watched him get out the fixings for tomato soup and grilled cheese. Hansel offered to help, but Richard made him sit at the island while he stirred milk into the condensed soup and laid slices of cheese on bread. Richard gave most of the soup to Hansel, but saved enough to dunk triangles of grilled cheese into.

Richard rinsed the bowls and pans and put everything into the dishwasher. He wiped down the counter.

“Do you need to leave? I mean, you probably shouldn’t drive.”

Hansel gave Richard a look. “I probably shouldn’t.”

The first night Hansel spent in Richard’s bed they actually just slept.

Richard spent most of Wednesday thinking about how soft and rumpled Hansel had looked when Richard got up for work. That, and the mint and coffee-flavored kiss he’d gotten in the driveway, kept him from realizing what he was getting into when he agreed to have dinner with Hansel and Gretel that night.

After his shower Richard called Christine. “I think I just agreed to a meet-the-family dinner.”

Between bouts of laughter Christine said, “I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

It was fine, though Richard didn’t relax until they’d seen Gretel off in the parking lot. Thankfully it had only been Gretel and not the rest of their extended family slash team, but Gretel was very protective of her brother. Gretel’s ‘gentle’ interrogation rivaled those he’d seen on the investigative shows he liked to watch. Richard heaved a sigh of relief when he lost sight of Gretel’s taillights.

“It wasn’t that bad, was it?”

“No.” Richard drew out the word. “Your sister is only the most terrifying person I’ve ever met.”

“Hey,” Hansel said. “I’m terrifying.”

“Sure you are,” Richard agreed.

“At least she didn’t threaten you with the whole shovel talk thing.”

“Are you kidding me? That’s only because she didn’t need to use _words_ ; it was all in her eyes.”

Hansel laughed and guided Richard to his car. He opened the door for Richard. They didn’t talk much on the drive to Richard’s house. Richard was feeling a drop in adrenaline like he suspected cops or soldiers felt after a successful mission where they didn’t lose a single man. Richard was still feeling mellow when Hansel pulled the car into his driveway.

“Would you like to come in for coffee or something?”

“I would very much like to come in for _something_ ,” Hansel said, with special emphasis on the ‘something’.

The words stole all the break from Richard’s lungs. “Okay,” he squeaked out.

Hansel didn’t crowd Richard on the walk up to the steps, or at the front door while Richard fumbled with the keys, but Richard was hyper-aware of Hansel’s presence. Richard pushed the door open and stepped inside. He held the door for Hansel, dropping his keys into the bowl on the side table as he closed it.

Richard’s heart leapt when he turned around and Hansel was standing _right there_. Hansel stepped closer until he’d eased Richard’s back against the door and their fronts were pressed together.

“I really hope this was the something you had in mind,” Hansel said.

Richard’s ‘yes’ was lost in the press of Hansel’s lips against his, the sweep of Hansel’s tongue, and the grip of his hands on Richard’s ass.


	3. Three & Epilogue

Being woken up with Hansel’s mouth on him was tempered by the call he got later that day. Hansel was headed to Portland for a job that shouldn’t take more than a couple of days. Richard did his best to hide his disappointment and told Hansel to stay safe.

It was just one night, Richard told himself. He had Ritchie over the weekend and wouldn’t be able to see him. Except after dinner with Gretel the night before Richard had entertained the idea that he might invite Hansel over for dinner so he and Ritchie could get to know each other. It would just have to be another weekend.

Richard forced himself to grill up the country style pork ribs and asparagus he’d planned to share with Hansel. He arranged the ribs and stalks of asparagus on a plate and took a picture. Richard sent the photo to Hansel with the message _wish you were here_

Hansel’s return message didn’t come until Richard had put away the leftovers and cleared up the kitchen. _me 2 & not just 4 the food_

Richard smiled and texted back. Hansel’s texts came in spurts with long periods of silence between them. Richard took advantage of one to take his shower and get his clothes ready for the next morning. He spent the rest of the evening with his cell phone in one hand and the ID channel turned low on the television.

After one stretch of silence, Richard’s phone rang. His stomach swooped when he saw Hansel’s name on the screen.

“Hi,” Richard said, unable to hide how pleased he was to hear Hansel’s voice. “Are you done for the day?”

“Yeah,” Hansel said around a yawn. “I just wanted to hear your voice before I turn in.”

“It’s good to hear your voice, too.”

“Yeah?”

Richard didn’t know how that one word could sound so suggestive. He glanced down at the lounge pants with bright yellow smiley faces on them. Breath caught in his throat, Richard said, “Yeah.”

Richard slept amazingly well after his phone call with Hansel, but he was out of sorts the next day. He texted _good morning, stay safe_ to Hansel while he waited for his coffee to finish brewing.

Hansel texted back almost immediately. _good morning_ followed by _I enjoyed talking to you last night_

Richard’s day went downhill from there. He hated not knowing what Hansel was doing. Shelley hadn’t been a bad witch, but the witch in Phoenix . . . Richard couldn’t think of another word to describe her except ‘evil’. He hated not knowing what kind of case Hansel was dealing with now. Google hadn’t been any help this time, which made Richard hope it was a case of minor inconvenience, like the one that had brought them together.

Richard tried to throw off his bad mood before he picked up Ritchie from school. They stopped at Whole Foods to pick up fixings for macaroni and cheese and some snacks for the weekend. Ritchie helped prepare the macaroni and cheese, then they added to Ritchie’s farm in Stardew Valley and battled a monster in a cave while they snacked on chips and waited for it to bake. After forty-five minutes Richard set the pan on top of the oven and gave Ritchie the choice between cauliflower and broccoli.

Ritchie wrinkled his nose in disgust and chose cauliflower. Because its flavor was more easily disguised by the cheese, Richard knew. Richard chopped up half a head of cauliflower, added a dash of water, and stuck it in the microwave.

Ritchie chopped the cauliflower into even smaller bits before stirring it into his macaroni and cheese. They put a movie on while they ate, and after cleaning up they settled in for some Minecraft.

Saturday morning breakfast was cereal since they had to get to the soccer field by 8:30am so the kids had some time to warm up before the game at nine. Richard sent a photo of Ritchie standing on the field just watching everyone else practice to Hansel with the message _really wish you were here_

Hansel had called the night before after Ritchie was in bed. In the moment it had been wonderful to hear Hansel’s voice, but now he just felt empty and lonely.

“No Hansel this morning?” Christine said when she arrived.

“He’s working,” Richard said shortly, and immediately felt bad. “Sorry.”

Christine patted Richard’s leg and yelled for Ritchie to get in there and get the ball.

Richard made BLTs for lunch and took Ritchie to a matinee because he couldn’t stand the thought of spending the afternoon waiting to hear back from Hansel. Richard let Ritchie talk him into stopping at Cassell’s on the way home. They got cheeseburgers with fries and onion rings to share and milkshakes.

Ritchie was starting to drag by the time they got home so Richard sent him to take his shower and get ready for bed before he fell asleep. Richard did some paperwork until Ritchie returned. Ritchie had to read three chapters in a book for reading class, so they settled on the couch and Ritchie read out loud to Richard.

Richard didn’t know what time it was when he woke up. He glanced over to see Ritchie conked out with the book hanging off his lap. Richard carefully disentangled Ritchie’s fingers from the book and set it on the coffee table so he could get Ritchie up to bed.

Richard returned downstairs to make sure everything was locked up and turn off the lights. He picked up his phone and saw that there was a message from Hansel that had come in nearly an hour ago. _wrapping things up_

Richard ignored the butterflies that set up residence in his stomach and immediately texted back _are you still up_.

Richard had barely turned the volume down so it wouldn’t wake Ritchie when his cell rang. Richard laid his hand on his stomach to calm the fluttering and accepting the call. “Hi.”

“Hi back.”

“Did I wake you?” Richard said.

“No. I was watching something on History, but I think it switched over when I wasn’t paying attention.”

He sounded adorably confused, which made Richard smile.

“If it makes you feel better, Ritchie and I fell asleep on the couch.”

“Busy day?”

“Soccer and a matinee, followed by cheeseburgers and homework. How’d your . . . work go?”

“As well as can be expected when the witch in question doesn’t want to reverse the spell,” Hansel said dryly.

“Good. That it went well, not that she didn’t want to reverse the spell. You said you were wrapping things up?” Richard hoped he didn’t sound as eager as he felt.

“We have,” Hansel said. “Are you free for dinner tomorrow?”

“Yes,” Richard said quickly, no longer caring how eager he sounded.

Richard made pancakes for breakfast. After clean-up they sat at the table, Richard doing more paperwork while Ritchie did homework. Occasionally he was called upon to help Ritchie with a math problem or to answer questions about the chapters he had to read. They rewarded themselves with some Pokemon before lunch, then Ritchie finished reading the required chapters.

“Your mom can help you with the questions if you need her to,” Richard reminded Ritchie.

Ritchie gave Richard a look.

“Uncle Matthew, then.”

They shared a smile.

Richard dropped Ritchie off and only stayed long enough to tell Christine that Ritchie still had some homework to do. He rushed home to put the ham – he’d gotten it out of the freezer last night and it was already in the pan – in the oven and take a shower so he was clean when Hansel arrived.

Richard’s breath was knocked out of him when he saw Hansel’s car in his driveway. He told himself it was because his plans had been upended and not because of the way Hansel leaned against the side of the car.

Richard practically fell out of the truck, reaching for Hansel before the door was shut. “What are you doing here?” Richard kissed Hansel before he could answer, their arms going around each other with no care that they were standing in Richard’s driveway.

Richard gently brushed his thumb over the bruise on Hansel’s cheek. He glanced at the butterfly bandage covering a cut above his eye. “You’re hurt.”

Hansel shrugged as if this was nothing. “She really didn’t want to reverse the spell.”

Richard didn’t want to think about Hansel being hurt worse than this so he dragged Hansel towards the house. “I was going to take a shower before you got here.”

Hansel pressed against Richard’s back while Richard unlocked the front door. “Waste of time when I’m just gonna get you dirty again.”

Richard shivered. He got the door open and nearly fell inside. Richard shut the door and shoved Hansel back against it. Hansel gave a breathless laugh that Richard kissed away. Richard fumbled blindly for the bowl and ended up knocking it onto the floor. He spared a moment to be thankful that it had been made in Ritchie’s art class and was nearly indestructible before dropping his keys onto the floor with it.

“Are you okay for this?” Richard said as his hands wandered over Hansel’s back and ass.

“I am absolutely okay for this.”

“Bed?” Richard suggested.

“Sounds good.”

Hansel laughed when Richard ran to the kitchen to put the ham in the oven before racing back and hurrying Hansel up the stairs.

Hansel had a job that took him away Monday, but he was back by Tuesday evening. They went to the mall so Hansel could get a birthday present for Gretel and ate at The Cheesecake Factory. They were too full for dessert, but ordered a piece of cheesecake to go that they could share later. If sharing meant smearing it across each others skin and licking it off, no one had to know.

The only job Hansel had the rest of that week was a consultation with a team in New Orleans. Spending three nights with Hansel made Richard feel like a kid again, even if one of those evenings was dinner at the house the four of Hansel’s family slash team shared. Edward turned out to be a darned good cook, turning chicken breasts into something fancier than Richard’s down-home style.

Saturday morning Christine took one look at Richard and rolled her eyes. “You’re glowing. It’s sickening. I haven’t had nearly enough caffeine for this.”

Richard handed Christine one of the five cups he’d brought. She took a cautious sip and groaned embarrassingly when she realized it was her favorite, which she rarely splurged on. “I take it back. I like you like this.”

Richard greeted Barb and handed over another cup, which she thanked him for, giving Christine a pointed look. Matthew got the third cup and Richard took the fourth. Richard set the drink holder with the last cup on the seat beside him to save the spot, then took a sip of his own coffee.

“Who’s the other one for?”

Richard fought the blush he felt coming on. “Hansel.”

“Ohh!” Christine elbowed Richard in the side.

Richard elbowed her back, which set off an elbow war until Barb threatened to separate them. Richard tried to watch the kids practicing on the field, but his gaze kept drifting to the entrance. When Richard finally caught sight of Hansel crossing the grass to the bleachers he raised his hand. Christine snorted, but Richard ignored her because Hansel had returned the wave and was smiling, just as happy to see him as Richard was to see Hansel. The thud of Richard’s heart in his chest seemed extremely loud just then.

Hansel greeted Christine, Barb and Matthew warmly and paid attention to both the game and Ritchie’s grape score, all while keeping one hand on Richard’s leg and sipping from the coffee Richard had brought him. Which was a good thing because Richard was only cognizant of the heat of Hansel’s hand and the thigh resting alongside his.

After the game Richard formally introduced Hansel to Ritchie, who might’ve been impressed by the witch hunting but was less so of the normal guy dating his dad. Ritchie perked up when Hansel said he’d like to get to know him better, maybe over some games and wings at Dave & Buster’s.

They stopped by the house so Ritchie could change out of his soccer uniform and Hansel could leave his car in the driveway. Richard stole some kisses until he heard Ritchie’s feet on the stairs, reluctantly pulling back.

Dave & Buster’s was a hit, and Ritchie admitted later that Hansel was ‘alright’, which Richard figured was high praise. When they got home Richard sent Ritchie into the house to start on homework. He waited until the front door closed behind Ritchie before pushing Hansel against his car for a goodbye kiss.

Richard woke up to a text from Hansel that they’d been called out of town for a job. Richard sighed and texted back, _stay safe_. He emptied his bladder and went downstairs to make pancakes. With chocolate chips because he figured he deserved them.

Between homework and video games Richard grilled hamburgers for lunch. He’d purchased a family pack of ground beef and cooked up the remainder with onions, peppers, garlic powder and pepper as the basis for chili whenever he got around to making it. He added corn bread to the list on his fridge so he would have it on hand.

Christine said, “Wow. What’s wrong?” when Richard dropped the tub of Rocky Road he’d picked up on the way over onto the counter and went rummaging for bowls and spoons.

Richard dipped up four bowls – because Matthew showed up as if he’d sniffed out the ice cream – without answering. Ritchie and Matthew sat at the kitchen table while Christine joined Richard on the couch.

Richard waited until he’d swallowed the first spoonful of delicious chocolate before speaking. “Hansel’s away on another job.”

“Ah,” Christine said sagely. “So no s-e-x until he comes back.”

“That’s not it at all,” Richard said. Sex was maybe partly it.

In the kitchen Ritchie said to Matthew, “She knows I can spell sex, right?”

“I think she’s in denial,” Matthew said.

Richard and Christine both ignored them, proving Matthew correct.

Christine studied Richard while they dipped their spoons and licked off the ice cream. Richard pretended it didn’t bother him.

“Is it serious?”

“No,” Richard said, then shrugged. “I mean, it could be. I like him a lot, but how will I ever know if he’s gone all the time?”

When Christine found out that Richard had dinner with Hansel’s family last week (on tope of the dinner with Gretel on one other occasion) she insisted on equal treatment. Richard didn’t argue, though he had no intention of subjecting either Hansel or himself to that.

Richard and Hansel texted every day and spoke on the phone each evening for at least a few minutes. On Wednesday Hansel told Richard that Gretel had lined up another job for them.

“Will you be home for the weekend?” Richard said, a sinking feeling in his stomach.

Hansel yawned. “Probably not.”

“Okay.” Richard tried to hide his disappointment. “Well, I’ll miss you.”

“Ritchie’ll keep you busy,” Hansel said.

Richard hesitated. “I don’t have Ritchie this weekend.”

“Why not?”

“Christine gets him every fourth weekend.”

“Oh.”

“Yes,” Richard said. “Oh.”

“So when you said you’ll miss me . . .”

Richard smiled. “I’ll _really_ miss you.”

Hansel asked, “How much?” and one thing led to another. Richard was glad he hadn’t already taken a shower.

Richard spent the weekend working – checking out new jobs and writing up estimates – and made sure he was busy all day and tired enough that showering and falling into bed at the end of the day sounded like a good idea. He didn’t miss Hansel at all. Hardly at all.

The night Hansel told Richard that Gretel had found them yet another job, Richard barely restrained himself from throwing his phone across the room.

“Three jobs without a break?” Richard said, congratulating himself on keeping his voice even.

Hansel explained that they did this often, taking advantage of already being on the road, and he was used to it.

A few nights later Richard worked up the nerve to say, “Being on the road so much, don’t you miss home?” What he really meant was, don’t you miss _me_.

Hansel hummed. “I never really thought about it. For as long as I can remember Gretel has been my only family, so it didn’t matter where we were as long as we were together.”

Two nights later Hansel went radio silent. He stopped returning Richard’s ever more frantic texts and calls. Richard wondered if he’d over-stepped the other night. Thursday afternoon he finally got a call from Hansel.

Richard excused himself in the middle of an important conversation with his job foreman to take the call. He stepped away to give himself some privacy. His opening greeting was tentative, not knowing whether Hansel was calling to tell Richard he’d gotten too clingy.

“Richard, it’s Gretel.”

Richard’s blood ran cold. “What happened?”

“Hansel’s fine. Well, he’ll _be_ fine, but I know he’d feel better if he saw you.”

“Where is he?”

“Home. Sleeping on the couch. I forced him to take a pain killer.”

“I’ll be right there.”

“Don’t rush,” Gretel said. “He’ll be out of it for a while.”

Richard forced himself to finish his conversation with Gary about the job and kept to the speed limit on the drive to Hansel’s house while he took deep breaths. Gretel opened the door and nodded when she saw Richard. She led him into the living room where Hansel was stretched out on the couch with a couple pillows behind his back and a throw over his legs.

“Richard,” Hansel said when he saw Richard. He sounded a bit groggy. “What are . . . ?” Hansel turned a glare onto Gretel. “I told you not to call him.”

Richard felt like someone had punched him in the stomach. He must’ve made a sound because both Hansel and Gretel looked at him.

“I didn’t want you to see me like this,” Hansel explained apologetically.

Richard reminded himself that people said things they didn’t mean when they were hurt and on pain meds. He stepped forward. “Well, I’ve already seen you, so . . .”

Gretel gave Richard a pat on the back that nearly knocked him over. It could mean she approved of his gesture or that she was washing her hands of Hansel. Or both.

Richard shrugged out of his coat and dropped it on a chair as he passed it. “I’d like to give you a welcome home kiss, but I’m not sure where it won’t hurt.”

Hansel got a glint in his eyes that made Richard blush. He said, “Actually, that would hurt, too. To add insult to injury, the stupid witch kicked me in the balls.”

Richard winced. “Ouch.”

“Yeah. I think my lips are safe, though.”

Richard leaned over and kissed Hansel’s lips, careful to not touch him anywhere else. Richard sat on the coffee table and took Hansel’s hand when it flailed in his direction.

“How bad is it?” Richard asked.

“A lot of bruises. My ribs.” Hansel fell silent, then said, “Sorry I wasn’t here for your free weekend.”

“Me, too,” Richard said. “I had plans.”

“Plans, huh? What kind of plans?”

“Pretty sure you know what kind of plans.”

“Rain check?”

“I’m sure I can manage that.”

“You’re too far away,” Hansel said suddenly.

Richard studied the way Hansel was lying on the couch. “How do you want me to . . . ?”

“Maybe behind me?”

Richard untied his boots while he ran through the logistics. Hansel was leaning against two pillows; he could probably remove one and slip in behind him. “Can you lean forward?”

“Sure,” Hansel said, then strained to do just that.

Richard placed a hand on Hansel’s back to support him. “You okay?”

“Yeah, just hurry.”

Richard gave one pillow to Hansel to hug. He knew it helped after heart surgery, so maybe it would for cracked ribs. Richard got one leg on the other side of Hansel and carefully lowered himself so he didn’t jounce Hansel.

Once he was settled Richard touched Hansel’s shoulder. “You want to put the pillow between us so you have more padding on your ribs?”

Hansel shook his head and slowly leaned back. “I don’t want anything between us.”

“Okay,” Richard said softly, hoping he didn’t give away how moved he was by the sentiment.

Hansel sighed once he found a comfortable position, then fell quiet. A few minutes later Hansel slurred, “S’ry. Thin’ Gre’ drug’ me.”

“You need to rest so your body heals.”

Hansel gave a weak snort. The next thing Richard heard from him were soft snores. Richard turned his head when he caught movement out of the corner of his eye. Gretel watched Hansel for a few moments with a soft expression. She smiled at Richard and gave him a thumbs up before leaving them alone again.

Richard lowered his head and rested the side of his face against Hansel’s head. He closed his eyes and counted Hansel’s breaths.

“We’re doing pizza and video games tonight,” Richard told Ritchie. “But there’s a catch. We’re doing it at Hansel’s house.”

“Why can’t he come to our house?”

“Because he’s hurt and he needs to rest, but he’s going stir crazy.” Richard had a string of texts to prove it.

“Will the rest of the team be there? Can I ask them about witch hunting?”

“You’ll have to ask them if you can ask. They might not want to talk about work.”

Ritchie did homework at the kitchen table with an after school snack of apple slices and caramel dip. Richard followed up on orders and deliveries and confirmed the pizza order with Gretel.

Richard picked up the pizza on their way over. Ritchie kept up a constant chatter about what kinds of games they might have and wondered if he should’ve brought some of his own.

“If they don’t have your favorite games you can learn a new one tonight and teach them your favorite when they come over to our place.”

Ritchie thought that over. “Okay.”

Richard let out the breath he’d been holding.

Edward opened the door to Ritchie’s knock.

“Hello, Edward,” Richard said. “This is my son, Ritchie.”

“Hello,” Edward said in his deep, rumbly voice. “Hey, Ritchie.”

Ritchie stared at Edward with round eyes and dropped jaw. Richard nudged him and Ritchie said, “Hi.”

“Come on in.”

Edward closed the door once they were both inside. He took the pizza boxes from Richard. “I’ll put these in the kitchen. Take your coats off and make yourselves comfortable.”

Ritchie stared after Edward as he took his jacket off and held it out to Richard without looking. Richard caught the jacket before it hit the floor and hung it up with his own. He exchanged a look with Hansel, who was grinning at Ritchie’s reaction to Edward.

“Ritchie.” Richard waited for Ritchie to drag his gaze away from Edward. “You remember Hansel’s sister Gretel.”

“Yeah,” Ritchie said, flustered.

“Hello, Ritchie. It’s good to see you again.”

Ritchie squirmed and gave a little wave.

“And this is their friend Ben.”

“Hi, Ritchie,” Ben said.

“Hi.”

“I hear you like video games.”

“Yes.”

“Wanna check out what we’ve got?”

“Yeah!” Ritchie said, then remembered his manners. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Richard watched after them. When he turned to Hansel, he was pushing himself off the couch. “Hey, are you supposed to be up?”

Hansel gave Richard a look. “I’ve already got one mother hen.”

“I’m not mother henning you,” Richard said. “I’m father . . . roostering you.”

Hansel clutched his ribs and made noises that sounded like he was crying. Richard grabbed Hansel’s arm to keep him steady.

“Jesus, Richard, don’t make me laugh,” Hansel said breathlessly.

“Sorry.”

Hansel slowly straightened. “I can’t give you a hug if I’m sitting down.”

Richard gave Hansel a gentle hug and pressed a kiss to his lips.

“Or go to the bathroom,” Hansel said.

Richard snorted against Hansel’s lips, which set off Hansel. “Ow, ow, ow.”

They ate pizza at the table, with Ritchie asking question after question about witch hunting. Ben finally distracted Ritchie by asking him which game he wanted to play. As soon as they were done eating, Ritchie and Ben headed back to the living room and sat on pillows in front of the television.

Gretel and Edward cleaned up, and Richard helped Hansel to his feet so he could empty his bladder before returning to the couch. Richard and Hansel leaned against each other and held hands while they watched Ritchie and Ben trash talk each other.

Richard didn’t see Hansel on Saturday, but he came over Sunday after Richard dropped Ritchie off at Christine’s.

“I could’ve come to your place,” Richard said when Hansel reached the front steps. Richard had heard the car – not that he’d been staring out the window – and had opened the door to see Hansel slide stiffly from the car and walk up the sidewalk.

“I needed to get out of the house.” Hansel paused before attempting the steps.

Richard tightened his grip on the door so he wouldn’t offer help before Hansel wanted it. Hansel smiled when he reached the top of the steps. Richard stepped forward and wrapped Hansel in a gentle hug.

“I’m glad you’re here.”

“Me, too.”

Richard let Hansel move at his own pace into the house and over to the couch. He closed the door and offered Hansel a drink.

Hansel turned down the drink and held out his hand to Richard. “What smells so good?”

“Pork chops.” Richard carefully lowered himself onto the couch beside Hansel. “In the crock pot with apples.”

“Apples?” Hansel leaned into Richard’s side.

Hansel played with Richard’s fingers while Richard explained the purpose of the apples. Richard caught Hansel’s fingers. “What’s on your mind?”

Hansel sighed. Richard’s heart fell into his stomach, suddenly afraid that Hansel was going to break up with him despite the fact that they were currently cuddling on his couch.

“Our parents died when we were young,” Hansel said.

Richard just stopped himself from saying, “What?” at the unexpected subject. He squeezed Hansel’s hand in silent encouragement to continue.

“A car accident. We were put into the system. Gretel refused to let us be separated.” Hansel’s lips curled at the memory. “She promised that we would run away and join the circus if we had to.”

“I’m sure she would’ve made good on it,” Richard said.

Hansel huffed a laugh and nodded. “Gretel has always been very determined.”

Hansel paused. Richard rubbed his thumb over the back of Hansel’s hand and waited patiently for Hansel to tell this story at his own pace.

“They placed us with a woman who took the hard-to-place kids. Too old. Too much attitude. Wrong color.”

“Or siblings who refuse to be separated,” Richard said.

Hansel nodded. “We were there for three months when we figured out what really happened to all the other children she claimed had run away.”

The breath caught in Richard’s throat. He had to bite his tongue to keep from demanding to know what had happened.

“She was a witch,” Hansel said. “A dark witch. Hundreds of years old. She’d been draining the children’s life force to keep herself alive and appearing young. I was to be her next victim.”

“Oh my god,” Richard said. “Hansel.”

Hansel finally looked at Richard, gave him a weak smile. “Gretel saved me. She stabbed the witch with a kitchen knife and hit her with a cast iron pan . . . Nothing seemed to stop her.”

Hansel took a deep breath. “I said, is she a zombie? It gave Gretel the idea to cut off her head. I had to hold her down.”

Richard swallowed hard several times to keep from throwing up. “What happened?”

“It worked. She turned to dust. Every last drop of blood. It was as if nature knew she shouldn’t still be alive and returned her to the form she should be.”

“What did you do?”

“We swept her up and dumped her in the yard. We did the dishes, wiped down every surface, and mopped the floor. The next day we called the police and reported her missing. Their search for her turned up the remains of the children she’d killed.”

Richard wanted to say something, but he didn’t know what. It was horrifying, what Hansel and Gretel had gone through, not to mention the children the witch had killed before they’d stopped her.

“That’s how we discovered witches were real and what led us to hunting them.”

“I’m sorry,” Richard said. “I’m sorry that happened to you. It’s horrible. Thank you for trusting me enough to tell me.”

Hansel nodded, talked out.

“Pork chops and apples don’t sound so good anymore,” Richard said.

Hansel snorted. “How about a beer?”

“Not if you’re driving,” Richard said. “Not while you’re on pain meds.”

“What if I don’t plan on going anywhere tonight?” Hansel tilted his head for a kiss.

“In that case,” Richard said, and obliged.

Hansel remained home for the next week to recover. Gretel refused any case that the three of them couldn’t handle without him, which meant they mostly took the easier cases and consulted with other witch hunting teams or law enforcement.

Hansel spent every week night with Richard, returning home when Richard went to work so he could help out with any consulting that needed to be done that day. Richard missed him on the weekend even though they still saw each other – Hansel attended Ritchie’s last soccer game of the season and got grilled by Christine and Barb, played video games with Ritchie, and even helped Ritchie with his homework while also helping Richard with supper.

Still, it wasn’t the same as falling asleep with Hansel in his arms and waking up next to him. Richard thought about the extra key he had in the catch-all kitchen drawer.

On Sunday Hansel said, “I told Gretel that I need the weekend off when you don’t have Ritchie.”

Richard smiled. “Really?” He waited for Hansel’s nod to say, “What did she say?”

“She said she’d make it work.”

Richard’s smile widened. “Good.” He could tell from Hansel’s body language that there was more. “What else?”

“I told her I wanted that weekend off every month.”

Richard was shocked to silence.

“Unless you don’t want . . .”

“No, no! I definitely want!”

Hansel gave Richard a hopeful smile. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. That’s . . . Thank you.”

Hansel shrugged like it was nothing, but the fact that he’d done that mean everything to Richard.

“Wait here, I’ve got something for you.” Richard hurried to the kitchen and back to Hansel. He laid the key in Hansel’s palm. “It’s for the front door. You don’t have to move in – not that that’s off the table – I just thought, you don’t have to wait for me in the driveway when you come over.”

Hansel rubbed his thumb over the key. “Richard.” He looked at Richard through his lashes. Hansel closed his hand around the key, curled his other hand around the back of Richard’s neck. “Thank you,” Hansel said against Richard’s lips before he kissed him.

After thoroughly thanking each other (and despoiling Richard’s couch), Hansel said, “I didn’t tell you the best part.”

Richard slid his hand over Hansel’s stomach. “That wasn’t the best part?”

Hansel smiled. “Second best part, then.”

“Tell me.”

“Gretel’s going to expand the team so we can all have more time off between jobs.”

Richard leaned up on his elbow. “Really? That’s wonderful.”

Richard kissed Hansel to show him just how wonderful he thought that was. Turned out Hansel thought it was pretty wonderful, too.

Later, after they’d showered and were eating in front of the television, watching a movie that Hansel had brought over, Richard said, “How exactly do you find people who know about witches?”

“Gretel has already interviewed a candidate.”

“Already? How’d she . . . ?”

Hansel grinned at Richard. “Thanks to Christine.”

“Shelley?”

Hansel laughed. “She’s actually pretty strong. Gretel has been working with her. I think she’s gonna say yes.”

“So you’re going to be around more,” Richard said.

“Yep.”

“That’s . . . that’s great for me, but what about you? Are you gonna . . . ?” Resent me, Richard thought.

“I wanna spend more time with you, too,” Hansel assured him.

Richard smiled. “Okay, good. That’s . . .”

“Wonderful?”

Richard laughed. “Yeah, pretty wonderful.”

Epilogue:

Two weeks later Richard came home to the welcoming sight of Hansel’s car in the driveway and lights on inside the house. Richard tried to keep the idiotic smile off his face as he carried his portfolio and The Avengers lunch box to the house. He was largely unsuccessful.

“Honey, I’m home!” Richard called out when he stepped inside.

Hansel appeared from the kitchen and smiled. “Welcome home, dear. How was your day?”

Richard’s eyes ran over the ocean blue-green Henley and faded jeans, a kitchen towel tucked into the waistband as a make-shift apron. “A whole lot better now.”

Hansel looked pleased. He crossed the living room to Richard, wrapped his arms around Richard’s neck and kissed him. Richard kissed back. He flailed around with his arms and thought, fuck it. He dropped the portfolio and lunch box so he could wrap both arms around Hansel and really kiss him back.

They only broke the kiss when a timer in the kitchen went off.

“Are you cooking?”

“Depends.” Hansel stepped out of arms Richard reluctantly opened. “Does picking up food from your favorite deli and reheating it count?”

“It counts,” Richard said, almost unable to speak.

Hansel smiled. “Get cleaned up.”

Richard hung up his jacket, untied his shoes and set them by the door, then picked up his portfolio and lunch box off the floor and followed Hansel. The kitchen table was set and candles were lit. Richard’s stomach flip-flipped as he watched Hansel move around his kitchen.

Hansel had spent every night with Richard, except for Ritchie’s weekend and two days he was out of town for work. But this was the first time they’d spend the entire weekend together.

Richard set his portfolio and lunch box aside and washed his hands at the sink. “What did you get?”

“Fixings for steak and chicken fajitas,” Hansel said.

“I love fajitas!”

Hansel blinked innocently. “Really?”

Richard chuckled. “How’d you know?”

“Lucky guess.” He pecked Richard’s cheek, then set the reheated fixings on the table and got the warmed wraps from the microwave.

They sat at the table and talked about their day over beer and fajitas. They’d done the same thing on other nights, but tonight it felt different. It _was_ different. Because this was the first weekend they were spending together. And because, how ever small it might seem, they’d both made a commitment to the other.

Richard pushed his plate away when he finished his fourth fajita. “What else have you got planned for tonight?” he said suggestively.

“After all the food we just put away, the body paint and handcuffs are going to have to wait,” Hansel said.

Richard’s eyes went wide. “Really?”

Hansel’s gaze moved over Richard. “Really?” he echoed. “You never stop surprising me, Richard.”

“I hope that’s a good thing.”

“It’s a very good thing.” Hansel pressed a hard, quick kiss to Richard’s lips. “But since I cooked, you have to help me clean up.”

Richard laughed, but stood and carried his plate over to the sink.

“Then we’ll veg in front of the tv and watch a movie; I brought a selection. And later we’ll go upstairs and you can tell me whether you emptied that dresser drawer for me.”

Richard froze in the process of getting out a plastic container for the leftovers. “That depends on whether you want a drawer.”

“I’d love a drawer, Richard.”

Richard straightened and turned to look at Hansel. “Then yes, it’s for you.”

“Awesome. Because I’ve already put my clothes in it.”

Richard’s breath left him in a whoosh at the expression on Hansel’s face. “You can have more than that if you want.”

“Can I?” Hansel said. He gave Richard a once over, but there was a deeper meaning in his voice.

“Yes.”

“Screw indigestion.” Hansel set the empty bottles in the sink. “I’m willing to risk it if you are.”

“Yes,” Richard said again.

Hansel pressed Richard against the counter and kissed him. Richard brought one arm around Hansel’s back and flailed with the other. Finally he tossed the plastic container away and wrapped his other arm around Hansel.

“I hope this is what you meant when you said I could have more,” Hansel said when they broke for air.

“Another drawer,” Richard said. “Some closet space. But also this, yes.”

Hansel smiled and slid his hand down Richard’s front. “Awesome.”

Richard had to agree; it was very awesome. He had met Hansel because of Christine’s certainty that she’d been cursed, but it felt more like a wish come true to Richard.

The End


End file.
